Electric Flight
by DreamFluent
Summary: The Have Blue aircraft watched the group of F-18s he was training, all uniform except for one, who had red tails to distinguish him until he was needed in the real world. Like himself, this plane was an experiment- an experiment that could overload communications in enemy territory on his own. Echo and Bravo's squadron fic.
1. Chapter 1

All was quiet on a rather dusty Arizona morning; a dust storm had blown through the Air Force Base just the last night, sneaking in all the cracks on the hangar doors and unsecured windows. This was the beginning of the monsoon season, and the beginning of training a whole new set of recruits, for Jake Wingston anyways. It was about 4 in the morning, he wasn't sure exactly when, but it was still dark outside. He was used to being up this early on a regular basis. Since his crash in 1979, he'd been assigned to training most of the new planes that came through Luke Air Force Base, sometimes whole squadrons, sometimes only one or two. This group was different, however. One of them was an experiment, like he was. Still unsure of his name, he'd been told he'd be able to identify the aircraft by his red tails.

This group, according to the paperwork, were all destined to refresh the Jolly Wrenches' fleet, all F-18s of the same production year. All of them were named after the phonetic alphabet; some were their actual names, but others only used them as call signs, their actual names still alphabetical with the rest either way. _Why'd they skip G, H, U and W? _he wondered, quickly realizing Golf, Hotel, Uniform and Whiskey weren't the best even as call signs. That meant that there were 21 recruits, 22 counting the experimental plane… one of the largest groups he's ever taught. He quietly exited the hangar, sure to not disturb his daughter; she managed to sleep in most days, even with all the drills going on so early in the morning.

The air was almost suffocating, dust still hanging in the air from the last night, but a slight hint of humidity and clouds overhood teased at the idea of rain. Of course, this didn't necessarily mean rain, but it was a hope; new recruits needed the clear skies the base offered most of the time. He glanced at a clock on the outside of one of the buildings, reading it as five minutes before 5. Slowly but surely, the large hangar adjacent to the runway opened up, two or three of the planes inside exiting rather groggily, none of them with red tails. He watched as the rest followed suit, most leaving the hangar with a groggy look in their eyes, but still no red tails. One minute before five, and he counted the planes present on the runway, realizing that he was missing almost a third of the total number. Now annoyed, he went into the large hangar, door propped open to find the missing planes still asleep, having moved to avoid the very pale sunlight. "GOOD MORNING! You're LATE!" he practically yelled, startling the sleeping planes and getting them to go out to the runway. Every time, he admitted, it was still fun. Sure enough, one of the first ones to pass him had red tails, but he decided that it didn't matter as of yet.

He followed the last couple planes out to the runway, deciding to make this day much harder than originally planned. "Alright," he began, "Now that you've had your chance to _sleep in_," he said with emphasis, making some of the planes wince a little, "I need to make sure you've woken up. 50 laps, around the base," he decided, "As fast as you can, no afterburners. GO!" he called out, making sure all the planes took off before he saw the red-tailed one, looking around awkwardly. "You, too," he added.

The plane instantly looked alert and saluted, "Yes, sir," he replied, taking off quickly and joining the others. Wingston watched him get into the sky, and saw part of what made him different from the others. Four large bars, of some sort, were mounted underneath his wings, sticking out a bit like extra fuel tanks. Wondering what they could be for, he wished for once that they had given him some paperwork on him… even if he hated it for the most part.

It was only a few minutes before the planes were done with their laps and had landed, now looking more awake and incredibly dusty from the air around them. Of course, there'd be rain soon, but until then they'd have to make do. He heard the creaking of a hangar door behind him, but ignored it. Tera couldn't possibly be up yet. Now satisfied with the alertness of his new group of trainees, he went through the phonetic alphabet, each plane responding with a salute when they were called, but he still forgot to see when the red-tailed plane saluted.

In no time, roll had been completed, and Jake was trying to figure out what to do with the group, knowing he couldn't keep them in the air for too long; all of a sudden the whirring of a propeller shot past his nose, and he narrowed his eyes, not saying anything. Tera was up, and flying incredibly close to the ground, as she had a tendency of doing when the air was fogged with dirt like that day. Keeping his professionalism in front of the new group, he quietly radioed for someone to escort her down.

"What was that?" one particularly obnoxious plane had asked, to which he received a glare in an answer.

Tera had enjoyed her morning of sleeping in, but the chorus of jet engines flying around the perimeter of the base was enough to wake anyone up, even her. Now that they were on the ground, she decided to try flying in the less-than-ideal conditions the dust storm had brought. Still using the ground as a gauge for her flight, she found that she could only make it a few feet up before it got too clouded to see correctly. Practicing her techniques for flying low, even if she knew it wasn't used in racing at all, she heard a jet engine catching up to her.

"Tera Wingston please land immediately," an unseen voice said, closing in on her from behind. It was the same F-15 that was practically her handler most days.

"Hi, Steve," she said sarcastically, smiling at the plane, "Pleasant day for flying, isn't it?" she asked sweetly, banking around a corner with ease.

"You practically crashed into your father," he said sternly.

"But I didn't, did I? I'd never," she replied, rolling upside down and continuing to fly.

"Get. Down." Steve told her, flying right by her side and maneuvering to the point where she had to land to avoid hitting him.

"Spoilsport," she muttered, her silver paint diminished with a reddish hue of dirt from being outside.

She taxied away from the runway, now annoyed that she couldn't fly, even with the training group not in the air, and she heard the F-15 touch down behind her and catch up, being somewhat slower than her due to his size; she rolled her eyes. "I'm a grown-up now," she said, "Shouldn't I be able to fly without being yelled at?"

"You're 16," Steve countered, his engine still cooling down from the chase, "And you just about crashed into a whole fleet of recruits."

"I know that much," Tera replied sarcastically, "Not my fault there was a dust storm last night."

The two planes were silent for a moment, listening to Wingston give the planes orders as a single raindrop hit Tera's nose, signaling that a storm was imminent. The rain began to hit some of the concrete, speckling it. "Guess you don't need to chase me again for a while," she quipped, turning to go back to her hangar without another word; however, when she arrived she stood outside, allowing the rain to get most of the dirt off of her, then entering the room, the lights automatically turning on. It was only a couple minutes before she heard the hangar door open again, and she turned to find her father, wet and shivering a little.

"I'm guessing class got cancelled today?" Tera asked somewhat sarcastically, knowing she was in for it anyways.

"22 recruits and you decide to buzz past my nose on the first day?!" he asked, "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wanted to fly today and a dust storm wasn't going to stop me," she retorted, flicking a towel over to the Have Blue aircraft by picking it up with her prop and spinning it slightly, sending the towel soaring through the air… and hitting him in the middle of the windshield. He tilted to the side to get it off, keeping his composure but visibly annoyed.

"You could have crashed into _anyone_ out there by flying that low," he scolded, more worried about Tera's safety than most of the others. "You can't wreck yourself," he muttered, trying to sound annoyed with his daughter instead of protective.

"You're not worried about the _other_ planes flying around in the dust."

It was true. He wasn't. At least the other planes could get rebuilt should worse come to worse and they run into each other… Tera? She was a mutt of all sorts, her mother being a Nemesis NXT. Of course, he never told her to keep her from searching for the racing plane, but it complicated things even more. She'd probably never be able to fly again if she was too careless one time or if her luck just wasn't in her favor. The scars from his first crash began to ache in memory, the remaining charring on his fuselage covered with paint. He still limited his own flying over 25 years later, afraid that the hydraulic fluid leak that caused his first crash would be the cause of his demise, as well, even if he was promised that it was fixed. The storm began to die off, being short and violent as most monsoons were. "Confined to barracks," he said simply, leaving the hangar as soon as the rain softened to a drizzle, letting out a sigh as soon as he was far enough away that Tera couldn't hear.

The silver plane had reversed a little at her father's sentence, obeying his command and not following him out of the hangar, even with the sky clearing- perfect weather to fly, now. She lowered her nose slightly, her prop touching the ground even with that slight movement. She hated that her father wanted to keep her on the ground all the time. _I know what happened who-knows-how-long-ago,_ she thought bitterly, _it doesn't mean the same thing's gonna happen to me._ Tera looked around for something to do, but there wasn't much. She instead went to the window, watching the F-18s reassemble in a line, and then move to take off, now practicing something other than flying in circles. One broke formation, seemingly by accident, and soared past the window, making Tera jump a little. "BRAVO!" she heard her father yell over the sound of jet engines, "Get your tail back up there!" he corrected, the plane flying back up into formation with the others. _That was odd…_ she thought, turning away from the window and looking for something else to do for a while. Maybe when training was over for the day, she'd be able to practice again.

**A/N: So who is the red-tailed plane? You'll find out soon enough... Yes, there are a LOT of OC's in this, and I'm going to continue to add to that count with the rest of Echo and Bravo's squadron, which is something I'm kinda new to in FanFiction. Oh, and I don't own Echo or Bravo... I think those are the only 2 canon characters in this, but if any others appear, then I don't own them, either. Thanks for reading :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys!**

Jake taxied out to the recruits, who were quickly exiting their hangar as soon as they saw him. Unsure what to do for the rest of the day with them, he quickly said, "You guys got lucky, I'm gonna let you have the rest of the day off." The planes looked at each other, and back to him as he turned to look at some paperwork a forklift was bothering him with. He watched as they broke off into their own groups, socializing, and he realized that the red-tailed plane was going to go back into the hangar. "Everyone but you," he corrected, calling him over, the F-18 sheepishly changing his direction with everyone staring.

"Well, everyone can have a day off, but Echo's not an everyone," the obnoxious plane said, laughing and turning back to the group, making the red-tailed plane sink lower on his landing gear, trying to make himself invisible, almost, but he straightened up, facing the commander and saluting, "You needed to see me, sir?"

Wingston paused for a second. Even if he was the commander of the fleet for the time being, the F-18s were almost double his own size. He brushed the thought off, "I was told you're an experimental fighter?" he asked.

"I'm an E-18 Growler, the others call me a Grizzly," he said quickly, "Designed for electronic warfare," he finished, almost hoping it was enough for the Have Blue.

Wingston, however, was curious. "How?" he asked simply, hoping for more information. Experimental aircraft always interested him, especially since he was one. It was a glimpse into the future.

Echo sighed, rather annoyed with the commander's questions, but he didn't show it just yet. "I can jamb tactical bases during an attack, make it so they can't defend themselves since everyone uses computers nowadays. Much more corruptible," he said quickly, his computers activating themselves at their mention. Only he could see when they were, of course, but it enabled him to analyze anything and everything he was seeing, while still looking basically like an F-18.

"How many of you are there?" he asked, now even more fascinated with the plane.

"They were talking about making a full squadron, I think… There are only one or two in new units, though."

"Good," Wingston replied, "We need planes like you to give us an advantage."

"Yes, sir," Echo replied, saluting yet again.

Jake noticed that even where his wing was folded was slightly off, folding further out, possibly to make room for the extra weaponry on him, as well as… whatever the two pods under his wings were. He couldn't help but wonder, and Echo picked up on the plane's expression, partly with his computers but mostly with his own instinct. "Jamming pods," he said simply, used to having to explain just about everything about himself. Sometimes he wished he was like the others… but at the same time that was his worst nightmare.

Wingston jumped a little, "Very good," he said quickly, "You're dismissed." He turned to go back to his hangar, and he shivered a little, out of just… everything. The planes he was training now were hyper-intelligent, and Echo topped the charts in his book, as most experimental craft did. Unlike when he was young, they were _made_ that way… he wasn't even sure if they were human anymore, even partly. Tera wasn't, he knew that much; Cathy had had a fit when she found out, and just left, not even looking at the young plane for more than a second. He shook his nose, forgetting it as he pushed the hangar door open… to find it empty. "Tera?" he called out, the sound echoing through the empty room. He narrowed his eyes, leaving the hangar and heading straight back over to the real barracks, over with the new fleet.

…

Tera had found her way around her father and the red-tailed plane talking, and had quietly joined the group of F-18s, her silver paint blending in but the green design on her side and tail giving her away. Picking a group, she awkwardly introduced herself. "Um… hi," she said quickly, the group pausing their discussion to stare at her.

"Were you the silver bullet earlier?" one asked in jest, already giving off an annoying vibe to her.

"I was just practicing," she argued, feeling a tap on her tail and turning to see another plane, gesturing to her to leave.

"Practicing?" the belligerent one said, "That's called trying to crash and missing!" he laughed. Tera sunk a little lower on her landing gear, reversing away from the situation while the planes were laughing.

"Foxtrot's annoying," the female plane said, "Best to avoid him when you can."

"Oh. What's your name, anyways?"

"Sierra," she replied, "What about you?"

"Tera," she said quickly, standing a little taller on her landing gear to avoid her propeller hitting the ground.

Sierra looked quizzically at the new plane, "How are you a prop plane?" she wondered, "You look like a fighter to me."

"I'm not a fighter… my dad is."

"Of course you're not a fighter," another female jumped in, "The name's Juliett," she said quickly, continuing with her point, "You're Wingston's kid, aren't ya?" she asked somewhat roughly, apparently annoyed with something.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't, would I?" she retorted, "What happened, anyways?"

"She's just got a chip on her wing… she can't stand Romeo and everyone insists that they need to be together," Sierra replied quietly, laughing a little.

Tera nodded in understanding, "Nice to meet both of-" was as far as she got before she was pulled backwards by Jake, startling her.

"You were _supposed_ to be back at the hangar," he started, annoyed.

"Well, I got bored," she said, recovering herself, "I'm not 6 anymore."

His face softened a little, knowing it was true, and he turned back to the other planes, "You best get inside," he said quickly, "Monsoon warning." Of course there was, but it didn't necessarily mean it would rain; extreme wind and lightning were almost guaranteed, however. The planes made their way into the large hangar, Echo being one of the first. A large gust of wind threatening to knock Tera off her landing gear made her shiver a little, even if it was a warm current. She sunk a little lower, trying to keep the wind from under her wings, but it was impossible as she tried to get back to the hangar she and her father shared.

It was mere seconds before the base was in the center of the storm, the wind threatening to rip trees out of the ground; a bright light lit up the darkened sky, lightning trying to find a good place on the ground to strike as the two planes got back to the hangar, Tera quickly shutting the door behind her. There was no rain, not yet anyways, but it was just safer to stay inside. There was no way anyone was flying in that weather. Tera watched out the window at the fury the storm was letting out on the base. "Why do you never let me fly?" she asked idly, not taking her eyes off the outside world.

"Because we were training," he replied simply, "You were intruding on government airspace while it was in use."

"You were taking roll," she protested, enjoying the argument, almost.

"You buzzed past my nose," he replied, knowing that she was just trying to start a debate, "That's not the best first impression on a whole group of recruits."

"Sorry 'bout that," she said quickly, backing up from the window to look back at her father, who nuzzled her slightly in forgiveness.

Jake found it odd that his daughter was somewhat larger than he was, as he only came halfway up her fuselage when it came to height, and she was a bit longer, as well. However, part of that was due to her landing gear; when they flew, it was a different story.

He remembered the week when he had to take her to the mechanic, Tera only being a couple weeks old and her propeller scraping against the ground when she moved. She didn't mind, of course, but it was considered a danger to her ability to fly when she got older. They gave him two options: either remove her propeller and make her a jet or give her high suspended landing gear. Both would have been okay for her at such a young age, but he decided that relearning how to taxi wouldn't be as bad as not learning how to fly by the method she was born with… he guessed, not knowing hardly anything about his daughter or what was going to happen when she grew up… he wondered how metal would grow, but he never figured it out.

The wind gradually began to stop, but at that point the sun had already been going down, the clouds and the dust in the air giving it a brilliant red color as it sank behind the mountains of the valley, the moon already visible in the sky.

**A/N: Thanks for reading :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Alright, I put my reasoning behind Echo being an E-18 on my profile, so you can take a look at that if you want. This story, I think, will be one of my shorter ones, as I didn't make an outline for it like I do with all my other stories (I have my own type of shorthand for them I do that so much… ask anyone who's tried to read them). Also, I have a mini-story I'm going to put in italics at the beginning of this called How Tera Got Her Nickname. Oh, and I did NOT mean to make a reference to Jay Jay the Jet Plane... if you catch it. It's really small, but I noticed it when I was reading this over. Anyways, enjoy :)**

_Teresa was almost a year old; she'd taken to her new landing gear like she was born with it, and it was only a matter of time before she figured out what her propeller was for and found her place in the sky, also. Jake had stayed with her as much as he could, taking leave from training recruits but remaining on the base. Everyone knew what had happened with his wife, and most had taken the time to pay a visit to the Have Blue plane and his daughter, wanting to get acquainted with the new child of the base, as there normally were very few. Today, though, was a father-daughter day._

"_Can you say 'dada?'" he asked her, even if the small plane was paying more attention to a stuffed tractor she was balancing on her nose. Frustrated, but amused, he knocked the toy off playfully, smiling. She looked at him, bewildered and unable to get to the toy again- she was able to knock toys off of high spaces, but not to pick them up. Wingston picked it up for her, balancing it on his own nose and making her giggle. Putting it gently back where she had it before, even if it blocked her pale blue eyes, he tried again to get her to talk. "What about 'Teresa'?" he asked, wondering if her own name would spark the desire to speak. He'd never called himself 'Dada' really, so she probably didn't know what it meant._

_The toy fell off the small plane, and she stared back up at her father, smiling only the way a baby can smile. "Tera! Tera!" she mocked, mispronouncing her own name and receiving a chuckle from her father, elated to hear her say her first word, even if it was late for a plane of her type… he thought. He actually liked that version of her name; it reminded him of his own odd nickname in a way. He'd taken the nickname 'Jake' even before the other plane of his kind died… he'd only really met him a couple times, the first plane's name being Jacob Wingston. They were almost brothers, though both of them had been created separately and had their own distinguishing traits, but most were internally rather than appearance. Over time, James had been called 'Little Jake' by anyone that met him, and even most that hadn't met Jacob still couldn't tell them apart, and sometimes they didn't even know there were two of them; they had completely different paint jobs specifically for that purpose, but it didn't help. However, both of them having names that started with J didn't help much, either. When he'd moved to Arizona, he'd accidentally introduced himself as Jake, as he was used to introducing himself while keeping the original Wingston in mind, and the name stuck. _

_He almost called to his wife, saying that the little plane had said her first word, but he caught himself- she wasn't there, anymore…. he could never remember._

"_Now, who wants some oil juice?" he asked, offering the little plane his wing to get on._

"_Tera! Tera!" she repeated, practically jumping on her father's wing for the short ride to the kitchen, enjoying being higher off the ground than she was used to, Jake smiling as she snuggled close to his side._

**A/N: Now, on to the story!**

Tera yawned, waking up late as usual to the sound of jet engines, exiting the hangar somewhat groggily with her prop scraping the ground rather painfully before she remembered to stand up straighter. Now curious as to what exactly they were doing, she ventured over to where she saw her father on the ground, some of the F-18s in the air and some waiting to take off.

"You're not flying today," Jake said, not looking back.

"What's going on this time?"

"Target practice. They're all fitted with laser guns that make others' landing gear extend," he explained briefly, the silver plane nodding in understanding, partially because she had just woken up and wasn't fully alert yet.

Tera hated to admit it, but it was somewhat fun sometimes to just sit on the ground and watch the group train; it'd been almost a month already, and the climate was still just as hot, but less humid. Echo, who she normally kept an eye on because of his red tails, seemed to be doing the best, already making three of the others have to land. His jamming pods had been taken off long ago, and while he could still put them on should he need them, he didn't like to have to worry about them so often. Jake was almost grateful for it, as well, treating the experimental plane just like the others with the exception of the occasional extra training session before curfew.

It wasn't long before only a few planes were left: Echo, Foxtrot, Sierra, Juliett and Bravo. The bright yellow guns under their wings reflected into Tera's eyes whenever they flew in just the right spot, making her squint at the massive dogfight that ensued. Jake simply allowed a hidden visor he had to come down over his windshield.

It seemed to be Echo who had the advantage for most of the fight, no one able to take him down despite several direct hits. Something was faulty, Jake decided, but he'd let him have it for cheating later on. This was much too interesting to stop early. Foxtrot seemed to use brute force, just rapidly firing over and over as if the laser was a machine gun, evidenced from the noises the training device was programmed to make whenever it was fired. Unfortunately, he hit no one and was taken down by Sierra. He was visibly annoyed as he came in for his forced landing, not bothering to watch who actually won. He hated Echo with a burning passion, and he wasn't afraid to show it, even if it got him into trouble sometimes.

Bravo actually ignored the red-tailed plane, going after the two girls remaining in the sky. Quickly aiming at Juliett, who he deemed to be more of an immediate threat than Sierra, he took her down quickly before he heard Echo fire, putting him out of the running as well. Landing after Juliett, frustrated, he saw that Sierra was still in the air, dodging Echo firing at her somehow. Tera almost cheered her on before she was finally hit, making Echo the winner of the game. He landed, triumphant, but Jake just looked sternly at him before turning to the rest of the planes, "Sierra won that round," he said somewhat bluntly, "But Echo is not participating in the next one, either. Now get back up there!" he declared, the other planes taking off again. Turning his attention away from them, he turned back to Echo.

"What squadron are you all going into?" he asked.

"Jolly Wrenches, sir," he replied.

"And what is their motto?"

"Volo pro veritas," he said stiffly, knowing where this was going.

"Translation?"

"I fly for truth," he said, using his computers- he hadn't really remembered.

"This is only your first stage of training," he continued, "If you can't even follow that motto, what's gonna happen later on? When you're actually in battle? You would've been one of the first planes out if your equipment was working. Why didn't you land when you were hit?"

"I don't know, sir," he said somewhat meekly, shrinking on his landing gear.

Tera was watching from a distance, and actually found it to be quite funny that her father could scold planes like he did, despite being half or a third the size of them. It wasn't long before she felt a nudge, causing her to jump a little in surprise.

"Didn't mean to startle you," Sierra said quickly, folding her wings.

"No, it's fine," she replied, embarrassed that she was so on-edge. "Nice fighting up there," she complimented, trying to get on the good side of the F-18, as she normally did with trainees. They were always older than her, but she normally found good friends in most of them; she normally didn't get to talk to Sierra that much, though.

"Thanks," Sierra replied, "It's really fun, actually. You should join us sometime," she offered.

"I wish," she said just as Foxtrot touched down, followed by Bravo soon after. They were a ways away, but Foxtrot seemed to be yelling all kinds of… words Tera hadn't even heard before, which was saying something. Bravo cooled his engines down, keeping quiet as Foxtrot spouted every curse word in the book. It wasn't long before both of them taxied over to them, both in completely different moods.

"You girls better leave the fighting to the guys," Foxtrot sputtered, annoyed at his defeat and taking it out on everyone he saw; he wasn't making much sense in the first place. All three of the other planes stared at him before he got the message and went to go yell at someone else.

"Who got him?" Sierra asked Bravo, who was rolling his eyes.

"Juliett," he said simply, receiving a look of understanding from Tera and the other F-18; however, Tera couldn't help but stare for a little longer than normal at Bravo, though she quickly looked away, snapping herself out of it.

"I think Foxtrot needs a wake-up call," Tera said suddenly.

"Wait, how?" Sierra looked worried.

"Hm… a prank," she decided, smirking, "Wanna help?"

"No way, no how," Bravo said quickly, "Good luck with that," he added, leaving to go talk to some others. There was nothing that could get him to get on Foxtrot's bad side for a cheap prank… who knows what'd happen to him if he did. He hated to admit it, but he assumed if that happened he'd leave training with only one wing or a part of his tail missing.

"Sierra?"

She silently shook her nose and followed Bravo, but she saw another plane heading in her direction. "I heard somethin' about a prank," Juliett butted in, "I'm the queen of 'em. Who's the target?"

"Foxtrot," she replied, "He was yelling all kinds of swears when you took him down earlier, and said that girls couldn't fight."

Juliett chuckled evilly, "We'll see who can't fight after we're done with him," she said, heading in the direction of the kitchen and beckoning Tera to follow.

…

"Now you're _sure_ it'll work?" Tera asked uncertainly, looking at the contraption the two of them had set up.

"Positive," Juliett reassured, "The best part of it: no cleanup...unless you wanna add the flour," she added, hopeful.

Tera pondered the idea for a minute, "Sure," she grinned, pulling the bag they had salvaged over and preparing it to dump as soon as the water hit their target. Within minutes, Foxtrot had exited the hangar, hitting the trip wire they'd set up with his nose gear; the bucket of water fell on him, thoroughly soaking him just before Juliett launched the bag of flour with her wing, aiming it so it landed perfectly just behind his helmet, the bag exploding on impact.

He screeched rather high-pitched at the sensation of the cold water, and then growled, letting his visor drop to prevent the resulting goo from getting on his windshield. "Who did this?!" he practically screamed, the two pranksters unable to contain their laughter from the spot they were hiding in. From all the commotion, more of the F-18s taxied over to see what was going on, eventually drawing the attention of Jake from the other side of the hangar, where he was reading on even more paperwork. Curiously rolling over to the front of the building, he ran into Tera and Juliett, who were still giggling wildly.

"What's going on here?" he asked sternly, trying to keep his emotions at bay for right now.

Neither of them could get out what had happened, as they were laughing too hard. Jake rolled his eyes, going around the corner to see Foxtrot covered in a cream-colored slime, the powder from the remnants of the flour coating the rest of him. The F-18 jumped a little at the sight of the Have Blue aircraft. "I have no idea how this happened," he said quickly and formally, the goo dripping down onto his visor and blocking his vision a little, ruining the formality he was trying to express.

Jake looked at him in disbelief, and then looked back to Tera and Juliett, still laughing, and chuckled. "A little water should clear that up," he reasoned, "Get one of the forklifts to hose you off," he said, more as a suggestion than an order.

Foxtrot scowled, but wordlessly obeyed, pushing his way through the planes that had showed up to watch the ordeal.

Satisfied, he turned back to Juliett and her accomplice. "You know you shouldn't have done that," he told them, their laughing stopping suddenly. He glared at them, "Flour's not to be wasted like that," he added, the only thing giving him away was a glint in his eye.

"It was my idea," Tera said quickly, "Juliett just helped. Don't punish her, punish me."

"Who said I was going to punish you?" Jake asked them, smiling, "You shouldn't prank, but I saw him earlier. I probably would have done it myself if I was in your position," he told them, trying not to laugh.

Juliett let out a sigh of relief, Tera still somewhat stiff with fright. Although… that prank was kind of fun. Her propeller twitched a little, "So he really is annoying?" she asked him, Juliett wondering as well.

"His conduct could use some work," Jake replied, "Get back to the others, Juliett 658," he said, switching back to his formal tone for a minute. Tera, believing that their fun moment was over, went to follow her, but her father blocked her.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" she asked.

"Oh, you're in worse than trouble," Jake confirmed, pausing for a minute. What was he doing? He didn't know… "From what I've seen today, I've decided that you need an outlet for your energy," he began.

Tera suddenly got nervous, "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you need to get in the air more," he said.

"But then why do you keep grounding me?" she asked, now annoyed.

"Because your flying wasn't structured," he explained, "What I'm saying is that…"

"Yeah?"

He took a breath, "I'm going to train you in self defense," he finally finished, "Starting tomorrow." Of course, he didn't think it was necessary, but there were certain techniques he'd neglected to teach her, even when she was younger and practically bouncing off the walls. With the recruits spending more and more time in the air in high altitudes, he also figured that then would be the best time, as well. After all, she was almost an adult, no matter how much he hated to admit it; she needed to learn how to protect herself.

He sent the now elated plane back to the hangar, smiling softly before pausing. _When was the last time she went to the mechanic?_ he wondered. He couldn't remember, but then he straightened up a little more, realizing how long it must have been… she avoided the place like it was a scrapyard. He turned to make sure none of the recruits were causing trouble as the sun sank lower in the sky, but all he saw was a forklift; however, it was exactly the forklift he needed to talk to. "Hey, Tony?" he called out to him, causing the forklift to change directions and greet him.

"Yeah, Jake? Something wrong?" he asked, getting closer. The resident mechanic always kept an eye on the experimental aircraft in particular from experience; no matter who it was, he always ended up seeing them more than any of the other planes.

"No, not me," he said, reversing just a bit. He'd spent too much time sitting in a repair ward during his life; he figured his weariness of mechanics had passed on to Tera. "Do you think you'd be available tomorrow morning? Tera needs to pay you a visit."

"Anything specific wrong?" Tony asked. The last time he'd really seen Tera… was a few months after her landing gear was replaced. It'd been almost 15 solid years since she'd been in for anything more than small injuries, and even then she left as fast as she could, certainly before he could check anything else. "She hasn't gotten a tune-up or anything for a long time."

Jake paused. It was true; his daughter had managed to get out of every single appointment he'd made for her. There was even one time she magically got well only an hour before he was going to make her go. "I'm gonna start training her to race," he explained, "The last thing I want is her crashing."

"Racing?" Tony confirmed, "That's not the overprotective daddy I know," he said suspiciously.

It was then that Jake realized he'd slipped. He knew for a fact she wouldn't have a career in the military; he hoped that perhaps the other side of her lineage could help her in terms of speed, and it would be something for her to do rather than disrupting the planes he was training. "She doesn't know, not really. She's gotta learn how to protect herself, too," he added, "Besides, it's better than having her flying through the group when I'm trying to train recruits."

"Yeah… saw that a couple weeks ago," the forklift concurred, "Less destructive, I'd say."

"That's the whole point," Jake replied, "So, would 4:30 work for you?" He knew that the earlier the time, the more groggy his daughter would be. That could help, a lot.

"Sure, just tell me how many others you need to help you get her into the hangar," he joked slightly, but with a note of seriousness added to it. There was no way she'd go willingly.

"I'm sure Steve'll help," Jake reasoned, "Both of us should be able to handle her," he said. As Tera'd grown up, Jake had Steve, the head security plane, help him keep an eye on her, which could be difficult on his own, even if he was a jet.

"If you're sure," he said, "Anyways, see ya then," he added, heading to his own home on the base, Jake heading in the opposite direction to his hangar.

Tera, on the other hand, was still fully awake, watching the plane and the forklift talking. She'd probably be flying around, but she'd learned the hard way that she really shouldn't unless she wanted to be considered a threat to the base, especially at night. Leaving her radio on, but staying quiet, she overheard the entire conversation; she had a knack for it, and it was actually really fun to her to eavesdrop like that, even if she knew it wasn't very nice or even polite. Settling in her spot, she faked sleep as her father entered the room; trying to stay awake, but unable to resist sleep, she dreaded the next day until she could think no longer about it, her dreams overtaking her worries.

**A/N: Yes, I had to… Tera's got a thing against mechanics, and it started young. Anyways, if you have any suggestions for short little drabbles like the one at the top of this chapter, I'm open to just about anything with Tera, Jake, Echo, Bravo, or anyone else you've seen in this story! Thanks for reading :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the longer A/N… I'm gonna try to finish this in the next couple chapters, as the next story in this series will be through TealDragonsUnite (A collaboration account with RushandStreak), and I didn't have that much to write in this story, anyways. After that, I guess I just have 3 things to say: First off, thank you so much to everyone who's reading this story :). Second, I'm just guessing that planes age differently than humans; not faster or slower, but just… different. I'm saying this because I can't put a solid age on anyone in here if they age exactly like humans do. Also, I'm assuming the military made up of only machinery would be much different than one made of humans, so I'm making up most of this protocol as I go along, just an FYI. And finally, there are bits of IRII in here, just a warning. Anyways, on to the story :). **

It was 4:15 when Jake awoke, the time he normally did. Tera was still fast asleep, and he took a small breath, going over to his daughter and nudging her, to which he received a tired groan and a small change of position.

"Tera, Tera," he said softly, "Wake up."

"Huh?" she replied sleepily.

"Come on, you're starting training today," he lied slightly.

In an instant she snapped fully awake, "What do you want me to do first?" she asked, already preparing to start her engine. She'd forgotten about what she'd heard last night, simply because she had just woken up and was still somewhat groggy mentally.

"Actually…" Jake started, thinking for a second, "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"You'll see," he said cryptically.

"Okay…" she replied, closing her eyes as directed.

"Now just stay with me," Jake told her, still making sure part of his wing was touching hers, just to make sure she didn't run into anything. They made it almost halfway to the mechanic before Tera began to remember what she'd overheard last night.

"Wait… where are you taking me?" she asked suspiciously; when Jake didn't respond, her eyes snapped open to find herself heading straight towards the one hangar she dreaded.

"Why'd you open your eyes?" Jake asked, hoping Steve was around them somewhere… he probably was, but still. "Tera, you have to go to the mechanic if you want me to train you," he explained, "I have to know for sure you're not gonna hurt yourself."

"I'm completely fine," she replied indignantly, "Except for that you lied to me," she added, reversing a little, away from the hangar she was being led to.

"I didn't lie to you," Jake argued back, "Avoiding a mechanic like you do isn't healthy!"

"Well, I can still fly," she narrowed her eyes, her pale blue eyes turning truly icy, "Nothing abnormal, so there's no problem."

Just then, Steve must have heard the racket; he came around a corner, nodding to Jake and already assuming what was going on. "Tera, you're father's right," he jumped in, "Something really serious could break if you're not careful."

"I've already heard that… when I was 10. I'm still alive!" she said harshly, adopting the voice like Jake used when he was scolding a group of recruits.

Jake rolled his eyes. "Look, you can either go the easy way or the hard way," he told her.

"How about neither?" she asked rhetorically, starting her engine roughly out of fear. Energy flowed through her, her eyes blazing. Her main flaps were already down and ready to take off, another distinctive sign of fear-fight or flight responses.

Tony had awoken, as well as a lot of the vehicles with homes close to where the argument was taking place. Most watched from their windows as the forklift exited his home, unlocking the doors to the repair hangar and propping them open, joining the group in the middle of the road afterwards. Seeing him head towards her, she growled a little, pushing her engine even further, though she wasn't moving anywhere.

"You need to stop and think!" Tony yelled over the sound of the silver plane's engine. He could already tell that it had a rattle of some sort, "Tera, there's nothing to be scared of!"

_There's way too much to be scared of,_ she retorted in her mind, trying to get around the two planes to take off, but she did indeed stop and think. Turning around, she sped down the road she was on, her nose gear lifting off of the ground when she heard a snap come from within her engine. She roughly hit the ground again, slowing to a stop. _This CAN'T be happening,_ she thought nervously, on the verge of crying. _What if they make it so I can't fly anymore…? Tony could even take my wings off if he wanted._

"What did I tell you?" Jake asked, taxiing over to her. While he was worried, he was also relieved. If it was the only way to get her checked out, he was glad it happened. He saw Steve standing by, just in case he was needed, but all that was needed was a nod before he went on to his other duties.

Tera sighed shakily, blinking back a fearful tear and looking down at her nose, a small cloud of smoke lazily floating out from under her panel and around her propeller. "Okay, daddy," she whimpered quietly, not trusting herself to speak any louder. She was only glad no one else was out yet, even if they were watching from out of the windows of their homes. Her friends for the time being, the F-18s that were being called the new Jolly Wrenches, couldn't see her like this; they were so tough and invincible, but Tera knew for a fact, now, that she wasn't. She hated it.

Jake could tell that she was obviously shivering, but it didn't take long to get her to the hangar; he wasn't worried about it for the most part… he knew all too well of hydraulic failures, and what had happened to Tera wasn't one, which released most of his concern. "It's gonna be okay," he tried to reassure her, "I promise."

She looked back at him, glancing at a blowtorch to her side and shirking away from the hangar. "It couldn't have been anything big," she reasoned, "Just a hiccup, I think…"

Jake rolled his eyes, "No, it wasn't. Just… cooperate, okay?" he asked, exasperated and noting that Echo had been the first one up as he looked over at the trainees' hangar; other than the first day, he made a point to be awake about 10 minutes before the rest of them at the very least.

"She'll be fine, Jake," Tony jumped in, already guiding Tera to where he needed her and putting blocks around her back wheels, just to make sure she didn't try anything. However, this just made her feel even more trapped and afraid. Even the roof over her seemed to be closing in as she saw her father nod to the forklift and taxi off.

Tony grabbed a wrench of some sort, only to open her panel and be greeted with a plume of smoke. The silver plane actually growled, now turning her fear to annoyance and anger. "Tera, you're not a fledgling anymore," he told her, "stop acting like one. If you're gonna be like this, maybe you don't need to be flying, anyways."

_WHAT?! He's gonna make it so I can't fly?! Nonononono, not happening on my watch. Okay, just keep yourself together… literally,_ she thought frantically, instantly quieting down and staring straight ahead. "Just… please," was all she managed to get out, biting her tongue to keep from completely freaking out.

_Wow… _that _worked._ He gave her a look of understanding, and while he didn't mean to scare her, it let him work easier. "Thanks," he said quickly, pushing a ramp over to her side and trying to figure out _where_ to start… she'd hardly even gotten her normal checkups until this point… he already knew it was going to take a while.

…

Turning away from the hangar, Jake began to question himself. Did he really want Tera legitimately racing? Yes, it was in her soul, but he couldn't be too sure he wanted to encourage it; he never knew why his wife left… perhaps she found that racing was a stronger desire in her than a family. He'd never even trained a prop plane like Tera, and she wasn't a recruit… she was his daughter, and the last thing he wanted was for her to turn out like how he conditioned the fleets he was given. He was almost glad he'd have an extra day or two to prepare... he doubted he could do it. Perhaps self-defense would be enough for her to expand on while practicing on her own.

He taxied over to the hangar of the trainees, watching Sierra emerge, as well, yawning. "Wow, I have early birds today," he chuckled, getting their attention in the quiet morning.

"I was just wondering what we were going to do today, sir," Echo responded formally, saluting.

"There's no need for that," Jake corrected him, "When the others get up, then there is."

Sierra was silent, still groggy and glad that Echo was a commander's pet even more so than she was. The first hour of the day was always the hardest for her.

"Ok…? What's happening today, then?"

"I don't really know," he replied good-naturedly, "Have you practiced scanning others in flight?"

"Not in flight, no," he lied, noticing more planes emerging from the hangar. This was one of those times that he wished he could just… blend in. His tails fixed that, though, and they would continue to until he was actually deployed to the Jolly Wrenches. He couldn't wait; he was already guaranteed to be essentially his own class of plane, meaning he didn't have to go through the normal drills much longer, as he'd be working with the selected leader as equals. Normally he used his computers to determine weakness in the other planes, which he knew would be encouraged, but it could also buy him an easy day.

"Do I need to remind you about the motto I told you about yesterday?" Jake asked. Of course he didn't know for sure if the plane was lying, but it was always fun to make him think he did.

Echo glanced down at his nose, "It's instinctive, sir. Can't help it." He wasn't sure if he was talking about lying or scanning.

"Glad you caught yourself, then. You're gonna need this day," he decided. After all, they were going to be moving on soon; in just a couple weeks, the Blue Angels would be screening for potential new members. Jake's never had less than three nominees from any fleet he's trained, and many of the current members had indeed been trained by him. Of course, they were only concerned about maneuvers, not battle tactics; he'd already ruled out Foxtrot and Juliett at the very least, in fact, over three quarters of this particular fleet he figured wouldn't even want to be a part of the show group, and Echo wasn't even a question, not even truly being an F-18. He figured there were at least four he could see being selected at the moment… but he wasn't sure, exactly. One could never be sure until the Angels made their decision. There was always room on the alternate line... they lost planes almost every year due to crashing or making a mistake-even the dent of a wing-tip could cause a plane to be dismissed.

The day was still warming up, as usual, but Echo took the hint that Jake was preoccupied and made his way back over to the group, which had grown a little since he had awoken. Rolling over to Sierra, who still looked tired, he nudged her a little with his wing.

She jumped, obviously not seeing that coming, "Oh, hi," she said quickly, turning a little more towards him.

"Hi," he returned, chuckling, "Surprised you even talk to me," his flaps twitched a bit, almost in a shrug-like movement.

"Nope, that's just Foxtrot, I think… if you'd ever get your nose out of your computers, the rest of us exist, too."

"Eh, can't help it… that's just how I am, I guess," he replied, now a little embarrassed; he knew for a fact he'd zone out into his computers, sometimes due to his own interest in the electrical systems of the base, but other times for no reason at all. He'd even caught himself on multiple occasions figuring out exactly how to disable the entire base. It wouldn't take too long… as long as he had his jamming pods and perhaps another E-18 like himself... what was he thinking? He'd never even tried disabling anything like that before, and he'd probably be dismantled if he tried it on his own home base.

"Uh… hello?" Sierra had unfolded her wings, tapping his nose with one of them, rather annoyed.

"Oh… sorry," he grimaced, "Like I said, can't help it."

"How've you not crashed yet?" she rolled her eyes, rolling back over to where they were supposed to line up for roll call. She didn't want to be too mean, but… she seriously had no idea how Echo even stayed in flight during drills… he was too hesitant to do anything, and yet he won every competition, normally due to equipment malfunctions, of either his own or others'… she wondered what the plane was really capable of.

…

Bravo was one of the last to exit the hangar, almost being late but putting himself in line next to Alfa before Jake could yell at him. Waiting patiently for the others, he unfolded his wings so he could salute when called. Silently watching the group of planes, he realized that Tera wasn't out, causing mischief as usual. Of course, he couldn't ask anyone, but he was a little worried… and yet it was peaceful. No one destroying the formality of roll with her antics… Foxtrot surprisingly not cursing about something she did to him, like what had happened the day before… although the flour-and-water prank was one he had to remember.

Seeing Echo pull into his designated spot, he noticed by how much he deviated from the standard height. He seemed almost a foot taller than the others, including himself- he cut the thought off as he saluted quickly when his name was shouted out- watching the other planes salute, he realized that Echo's wings didn't fold right, either… the place where they folded was just a smidge too far out, he realized. Watching the rest of the line, he then looked back to Alfa. All the other planes… they were built for this stuff, it was in their programming. He didn't want to be an F-18, really… but he had to be a plane; there was no way after going to flight school that he was going to be stuck for the rest of his life on the ground. He'd have to introduce them to human culture when they were done training. They always put one human in every squadron for that purpose. He wondered if he could still sing… he could introduce them to musicals if that was the case… he heard of one called Frozen that he really wanted to see when he got a chance.

"Alright," Jake instructed them, not feeling the need to yell; no Tera meant less distractions. The military now was so much more lenient than it was before everything changed; even now, there were several rules that had yet to be changed. "We've got the Blue Angels coming here in about two weeks, depending on weather. You really need to pull your act together! Even if you don't get selected, you still gotta know your stuff!" he emphasised before instructing them the drills they needed to perform and putting them into groups for formations, sending them into the sky. He purposely made the groups uneven most of the time, just to mix it up.

The final group, consisting of Foxtrot, Bravo, Sierra, Juliett and of course Echo took off one by one, banking as they waited for the entire group to get back together.

"Okay, guys," Bravo started over his radio, "Let's try the V-formation. Too many of us to do the star unless someone can stay in the middle."

"Who put you in charge?" Foxtrot retorted, "Besides, everyone else's doing the star, why can't we?"

"So you want to be in the middle? I'm not sure… is anyone else okay with it?"

"I'm not," Sierra butted in, getting annoyed by all the bickering, "I'll take the middle," she decided in a clipped tone, moving between Echo and Foxtrot, Juliett taking the hint and moving behind her and Bravo taking the lead, their star doing laps in the sky for a few minutes before breaking up a little, waiting for more instruction.

"Get closer together next time," Jake corrected, broadcasting the direction over all the planes' radios. He knew it was a bit dangerous, but that's all the Angels did-extremely tight maneuvers; they had to get used to it if any of them were to get selected. "Oh, and rotate who's in the middle, group E," he finished, noting that they had a center plane in their formation.

Sierra moved forward, allowing Juliett to take the center spot as the other planes moved around to fill the other spots, leaving Echo in the back. Bored, he began to scan the other planes in his group; he didn't have his pods on him at that moment, but he wondered if…_oh, this could be good,_ he realized. He sent an electronic signal to Bravo, dropping his right ailerons for him, just a little, causing his part of the formation to become looser as he unwittingly drifted away.

"BRAVO!" Foxtrot said somewhat angrily, "What're you doing? You're making the rest of us look bad!"

"I wasn't doing anything," he argued.

"Then why are you so far away from the rest of us?"

He corrected himself, finding some difficulty in moving his right ailerons, "No idea…"

Echo snickered quietly, using a little more influence to make Bravo fly away again. "You're sure?" he asked, keeping himself from laughing. Normally he just caused equipment failures, but this was _so _much more fun.

Bravo groaned, "Please stop," he told him, heading back into formation and trying to keep himself stable, though it was difficult, "You're gonna get us both in trouble." _Why couldn't he mess with ANYONE else?_ he wondered, annoyed.

He released his control over Bravo, almost causing him to run into Juliett. "Shoulda warned you…" he admitted, though finding that he could control other planes as well was quite a concept. He knew what he was doing for April Fool's day… he'd heard about it, anyways. He hadn't lived long enough yet to actually participate in one, but he couldn't wait, now.

…

"How much longer to I have to be here?" Tera asked impatiently; her initial fear had turned to annoyance as the day went on. At the moment, she had simple wooden supports under her wings that were keeping her from moving too much; they also allowed her tires to be changed without the need of a lift. It took a miracle on its own for her to allow anyone to even touch her wings to put them there. After sitting there for the majority of the day, it was without a doubt she was antsy as well as just in a bad mood.

"Not sure," Tony replied for probably the fifteenth time in the last hour, knowing how Tera could be; he simply ignored it as best as he could. He was just glad he had other forklifts on hand in case anyone else came in. "If you visited on a more regular basis, you wouldn't be here still."

She glared.

"Well, it's not fun for either of us, now is it?"

"Nope. If you'd just let me go… there wasn't anything wrong with me in the first place, I'm sure-"

"Not a chance," he replied good naturedly, suppressing a chuckle. She'd already tried that card earlier. "Besides, I haven't even checked your wings or tail yet."

"Aww," she complained, closing her eyes and putting more stress on the supports, sick of sitting in one place and unable to relax the way she was used to; her prop gently touching the ground so she didn't have to consciously hold it above it. It was times like these that she wished she could have been a taildragger, simply so she didn't have to worry so much about it… as well as getting yelled at because of something she couldn't really help. She tensed, as well, simply because she didn't like _anyone_ touching her wings. Ever. And if anyone even thought about messing with her tail… she didn't even know what she'd do, she just didn't want it to happen. It was all she could do when she was younger to allow a painter to put the swirl pattern on it, but that was only because she wanted it so badly.

Tony rolled his eyes; she'd been acting like this since that morning, only progressively worse. He'd figured out how to deal with it, but it still got on his nerves. With all the accumulated damage to her engine and propeller, it was a miracle that she hadn't crashed mid-flight before that day. Keeping her on the supports allowed him to realign her propeller, as well, and he'd already tried to warn her about resting it on the ground-it destroyed the angle of the blades that allowed her to fly in the first place. Of course, he was met with all kinds of complaints. He moved to her right wing, making sure her flaps were tightened correctly; however, he thought he saw a panel on the front edge of her wing; he didn't know what to think of it… before he remembered her first inspection when she was a baby. Smirking, he tapped her wing with his wrench, causing some of the systems within it to activate and revealing a weapon underneath the practically invisible panel.

She jumped a little, already paranoid just by the action of someone touching her wings, "What'd I do this time?" she asked, snipping her words to give them a sharper edge. Looking to her side, she realized she had… a gun, of some sort. "I can defend myself perfectly well without that," she narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was part of why she'd been sitting there for so long. Of course she wasn't really thinking logically, but sitting in the one place she hated the most, it was a given.

"Nope, you were built with it," Tony corrected, "There's one on your other wing, too. If you'd grow up and come in more, I would've told you sooner."

She activated the other one, just out of curiosity, "But why…?"

"Baby planes don't need to know about their weapons… they can't even control them until they hit a certain age," he explained. He wasn't even sure of the logic… Artificial Intelligence planes were so odd with their principles. They acted almost like baby birds when they were little, earning them the nickname fledglings, even if they were perfectly capable of acting like civilized human beings; something in their programing, he assumed.

"So I'm a baby plane."

Tony sighed, annoyance practically dripping from his voice, "No, Tera, that's why I told you. If you would have come in for regular maintenance, I could have showed you a long time ago." Of course, he wasn't sure if they even worked, but the point still stood.

She deactivated the guns, allowing the panels to close back over them as she did. During their little argument, Tony had managed to adjust Tera's other wing without her noticing, moving to her tail; it couldn't take too long, he figured, as she was a single-tailed plane, unlike the F-18s he commonly saw as of late. However, Tera was having none of it. As soon as she realized what he was doing, she fought the supports and quickly broke one side, the wood splintering and enabling her to move forward as she started her engine, which was admittedly running much better than before. She turned around and growled as if she was some sort of wild animal before remembering her guns, which were purring at her sides just at the thought. They weren't loaded, of course, but she began to like the idea of being able to defend herself without getting hurt in the process.

Suddenly, she felt a clank on her nose, snapping her out of her panicked frenzy for a minute, though she didn't shut off her engine. Of course, it was Tony, who'd thrown a wrench at her. "There are plenty of workers here who'd be perfectly willing to hold you down, or better yet put you on a lift, and I'm sure you wouldn't like that," he mused, sick of the belligerent silver plane and just trying to get her to cooperate. She was even worse than Jake could be, and that was saying something… though scare tactics worked with her more so than Jake; right now, that was probably the only thing that's kept Tony alive. He had to admit that being a mechanic wasn't the safest of jobs, especially when the patients in question were normally armed.

Not even bothering to argue, but not as insane as she was before, Tera just glared, her eyes turning icy.

"You want to do it the hard way?" he asked, raising an eyelid threateningly.

She continued to glare at the forklift. No one was touching her tail if she had any say in it, but she didn't even think to talk at the moment. She revved her engine as a challenge to Tony. _I'm not going down without a fight,_ she thought, though unable to put it into words.

He sighed, the defense obviously not impressing him. He'd seen much worse from belligerent fighter jets, "You're gonna act like a fledgling about it, I'll treat you like a fledgling about it. You're not leaving this hangar until I check your tail." No matter how much he wanted to just let her discover for herself that she was out of alignment in her steering now that everything else was in alignment, he also knew how reckless she could be on top of just how badly she'd fly if he let her go… as far as he knew, she could also avoid radar if she wanted, making it all that much worse should she not be able to control herself and come to a rough landing; he would probably get in a lot of trouble for releasing her in that state, too.

It didn't take too long for a couple of his assistants to notice that Tera wasn't cooperating, and between the three of them they managed to get ropes over the plane's wings, which were reserved specifically for patients that were classified as insane... while he knew Tera was not, she was certainly acting it and causing a danger to the others in the hangar; however, it took only a second for her to slice the ropes in half with her rapidly spinning propeller, then trying to make a break for it. _Interns,_ Tony sighed. No matter where he worked, he was still stuck with them, and they never did anything right. Luckily, but unluckily for Tera, an even larger plane was making his way into the hangar, practically running into her.

"Oh, hi," Echo said, startled simply because he was spacing out again, but snapping out of it quickly, "So THAT'S why you haven't been bugging anyone… what happened?" he asked.

"Nothing happened, I just need out of here," she replied desperately, trying to get around the F-18, but Echo unfolded one of his wings, reading the fear in her voice as a sign that she was escaping, along with how much she was pushing her engine, even if it wasn't needed. That, and the obvious bad mood Tony was in… he actually had never seen him that mad in all the times he had to visit for his jamming pods. He considered coming back at a later time…

"Nice save, Echo," Tony commented, the two interns retrying the idea with the rope, keeping them away from her propeller this time. It was a rather crude method, but it worked, he had to give it that. Tera tried her hardest to fight it, but the angle the ropes were at left her helpless. Her escape route blocked, she cut her engine, surrendering.

"Okay…?" Echo commented, concerned for the other plane's sanity, "It's not that big of a deal…"

"I've tried to tell her that all day and nothing's come of it," Tony told him, "Not much you can do about it," he shrugged, the plane in question scoffing at how he was talking about her.

A bit weirded out by the whole situation, Echo slowly reversed, "I'll come back later, if that's okay…" he said, though the forklift wasn't paying attention to him anymore. It was odd; he was only a few months old and he was still more mature than Tera… perhaps something was really malfunctioning in her computer, he decided. He'd seen the irrational panic in her eyes, but he couldn't empathize. He had no fears he knew of, at least, he hoped he didn't.

It didn't take long for Tera's tail to be adjusted, as Tony had predicted, but it had taken all the traction in the interns' tires to keep her still enough for him to finish, holding the specially made ropes as tight as they dare without hurting her. Frightened by how much she was restricted in her movement, the natural instinct of the plane, like the rest of that day, was to escape. However, she was forced low enough on her landing gear that she couldn't start her engine without her propeller hitting painfully on the ground in the process. She hated that she couldn't see what the mechanic was doing, but she kept looking out of the corner of her eye, trying to at least see a little; her tail being her blind spot was one of the reasons why she hated anyone who even dared to go near it.

Working as fast as he could, Tony tried to take as many mental notes as he could, should there be a 'next time' where Tera's dad forced her to pay him a visit, and possibly advise him on any advantages she might have in the air… tricks were certainly one of them, though he noted that she probably had to greatly exaggerate her movements to get any change of direction at all. Just before he finished, he realized that she had a jet engine hidden fairly well within her structuring; he wouldn't tell her, of course, simply because it was very unlikely that it was functional.

On a signaled count of three, both interns let go of the ropes they were holding and Tera was off like a rocket, not even bothering to say good-bye. She immediately headed towards the runway, not asking for clearance (she never did that, anyways,) and took off, just wanting to be in the air to clear her mind and feel free again. Just the feeling of air under her wings allowed her to breathe easy; she didn't even care that it was easier to take off or steer.

Jake, having been waiting secretly for his daughter to emerge from the hangar, figured she'd go straight back to their own hangar… he was sorely mistaken. Watching her take off, he considered joining her, just once. The trainees had finished up early, and they were taking an extended midday break. It'd been so long since he flew… he mentally checked his hydraulics systems, something he'd learned to do long ago, and hoped something wouldn't go wrong… but what if it did? He didn't want Tera to see him crash if his system failed again. Snapping himself out of his paranoid mind for once, he flicked his radio on, heading out to the runway.

"This is Wingston one, requesting permission to take off," he said bluntly, turning on his tracker for the radar to pick him up. Yet another perk of being an experimental stealth plane; since he normally couldn't be seen on radar, he'd been fitted long ago with a tracker that gave away his position. Since he was never going to be in combat, he was required to have it operating whenever he was in flight.

"Clearance granted at runway 2," a voice replied, but Jake was already heading towards it, warming up his engines as he did so, ignoring the stinging along his fuselage where the hydraulic fluid had leaked the worst. It was just a side effect of the accident; it never impacted his ability to fly, but he was a little paranoid about it.

"Thanks," he said, turning off his radio and allowing himself to build up speed as he went down the runway, feeling his front wheel lift off the ground before he was in the air. Loving the feeling of not being on the ground for once, he questioned why he stayed there so much in the first place. Catching up to Tera, who was doing lazy circles around the base, he was greeted with a look of surprise.

"You're… flying," was all she got out. It'd been years, probably, since she'd flown with him last.

"Well, I'm a plane," he replied simply. It still sounded odd to him, but it was true.

"But… why now?"

"Just because I don't fly as much doesn't mean I don't like to anymore." He was going a bit slower than he was used to to keep close to Tera, but he couldn't help staying slightly ahead; he had to keep above his stall speed.

Tera took the motion as a challenge, easily going a bit faster and smirking. She knew she'd never beat him in terms of speed, but she was still pretty fast for a prop plane, she thought. Normally being the only one on the base besides the occasional Corsair veteran or two, she didn't have much to go off of for a reference. She watched the Wings Around the Globe race every year, but they never released the speeds of the competitors, only the maneuvers, which she learned by heart every time she found out about a new one. The only thing she hadn't mastered quite yet was barrel rolls… she could never get herself to complete the flip.

"Feeling better, I see?" Jake said playfully.

"Just happy to be outta there," she replied.

"I know," Jake told her, "It's a learned skill to sit there for hours on end."

"Um…"

"Tera, what did you do?" he asked, now curious. He was forced to sit in a lab for so long when he was first… built, he guessed they called it now. Of course he tried to escape, but he didn't have a talent for that on the ground.

The silver plane didn't respond.

"You know there's an emergency exit in the back of that hangar," he suggested.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" she laughed, "I'm sure Echo thinks I'm some sorta freak now…"

Wingston chuckled, "I'm sure Tony'll have words for me from that answer." He knew he should probably not be encouraging her, but it was just too funny; he figured it was his fault she hated mechanics so much, but it was almost relieving to see that some of his personality had passed on to the young plane. She had her mother's engine and drive, but his heart and looks… of course, he hadn't seen himself in a mirror for a long time, so he couldn't be too sure about that, and he knew for a fact her wings weren't like his own, nor her tail… he scratched the thought of her looking like his own model, though she did look a bit like a fighter jet. She'd been given jet fuel once when she was little-the forklifts at the cafeteria didn't know any better- and she couldn't shut off her engine, she had so much energy. He made a note to check the label on the fuel he got for her after that, even now.

"Just don't make me go back there," Tera asked, almost with a pleading tone, but she was covering it up unconvincingly.

"Can't promise that. I will say that I won't let you sit in there for more than a couple hours, how's that sound?

She sighed, "Not anytime soon, though." She wished she didn't have to be on the ground ever, but that also was a far-fetched idea.

"Deal. You've been through enough, I think," he decided. It was the least he could do. He knew what it was like; he loved her too much to let her suffer through another long day like that.

She smiled in relief, though still a little snarky, "Good," she said simply, banking around to return to the base, flying next to her father in silence and enjoying the feeling of the breeze hitting her wings, the warm desert air caressing her as she soared through the cloudless sky.

**A/N: Yes, primal instinct Tera... I had to XD. Oh, and I know that E-18s can't actually control other planes, but this does take place in the future so... just bear with me XDThis is seriously the longest chapter I've ever written, and Tera had a lot larger part than I originally wanted. I've only got a couple chapters left in this story, so stay posted! It may take a while, but it's coming. Thanks for reading all of this if you did :D.**


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